


Images Never Dim

by Kisuru



Series: 100 Fandom Challenge [1]
Category: Happy Sugar Life (Anime & Manga)
Genre: 100 Fandoms Challenge, Canon - Anime, Character Study, F/F, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Introspection, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 00:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18083492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisuru/pseuds/Kisuru
Summary: Shio recovers (or not so much) at the hospital after Satou is gone.End of anime spoilers.Prompt #056: Alive.





	Images Never Dim

Meal routines in the hospital were a constant dread for Shio. The meal cart always rolled in next to her bed, and she stared at the neatly arranged, portioned morsels in the dishes.  
  
The food never looked appetizing.  
  
Even when she touched it, it was never warm.  
  
Another pair of gentle fingers never offered to share or feed her. The food simply perched on the plastic, dried and abandoned, dull in the gray light cast from the half-curtained window.  
  
Each of her meals was always… tiresome.  
  
Shifting in her bed, she glanced up. Satou smiled. The spoon in her hand hovered close to Shio’s lips. Mouth opening, Shio bit down on the metal. The savory broth of the soup stock on its ladle soothed her taste buds like a breeze. Shio gratefully shivered in bliss.  
  
When she finally focused and Satou wasn’t peering at her for a reaction anymore, tangs of disappoint cloyed and lumped in her throat and dispelled the taste of contentment.  
  
Shio never saw her eat for herself—not even in her own cluster of whirring memories.  
  
In death, was Satou eating well? She didn’t know. Could people eat after they died?  
  
Then the trail of blood that had dripped down Satou’s head returned to Shio’s mind’s eye. Under her, Satou laid still. A pool of crimson had pooled around her body, the corner of her mouth coated in the same color after an impact cough thundered in Shio’s ears.  
  
Shio clutched her chest. And the screams ripped from her innermost, ragged fear.  
  
Shio wanted to be strong like Satou taught her to be! She hated when the nurses rushed in, hushed her, and the prickles of medicine penetrated her veins and made her sleepy. Why couldn’t she be brave and burden the obstacles like Satou had done for her?  
  
But Shio knew she couldn’t avoid talking when she heard the _tap-tap_ of the nurse’s shoes clack against the linoleum floor.  
  
“Good morning. Need anything, Koube-san?”  
  
Listlessly, Shio shook her head. The nurse did her routine—checked her IV, asked questions Shio rattled off without thinking—then handed her a piece of paper. Shio traced the smooth crease of the laminated menu. Having read the options many times, she didn’t skim it.  
  
“What would you like to eat?” the nurse asked. Pen in hand, she raised her clipboard.  
  
“I’m not hungry.”  
  
“No? But you’re a growing girl! You need to eat and grow up into a beautiful woman,” she encouraged. “How about it? I heard there are nice dinner specials today to try out, too.”  
  
Too much sugar was not a part of her recommended diet. She hated that.  
  
Satou had been all sugar to Shio.  
  
Grow up. Like Satou.  
  
But Satou had been truly beautiful.  
  
Could she do that?  
  
Shio’s head tilted. She brushed aside the nurse’s recommendations, and she flipped through side from side, searching for a sign. Her finger covered the section of desserts.  
  
As she thought, the picture of the slice of cake the cafeteria offered looked bland. No sweet toppings like cherries or blueberries. The cake was a triangular, lopsided slab. It was a masquerade of deceiving sweetness.  
  
“Candy.”  
  
“You decided?”  
  
“I want candy,” Shio said, louder.  
  
The nurse laughed. “Candy is good for dessert, but it isn’t nutritious for a whole lunch.”  
  
Shio sighed, already fed up. She tossed the menu on her blanketed lap. Refusing to look at her again, she stared at the window, a stray ray from the sun reflecting off the sill. “I don’t care,” she declared. “Lots of candy. Sugary candies. Colorful and cute ones.”  
  
The laugh lines on the nurse’s face thinned a bit, but she flashed Shio a patient smile. She took the menu from the blanket and pointed at the dinner section. “I’ll make sure you get a hefty dessert,” she agreed. “Here, let me help. I think you’ll really like the fish again. You ate most of it last time, didn’t you?”  
  
Shio tuned her out completely.  
  
_But_ , Shio thought with a deep frown and concentrated on the sunshine, _what is the point of growing up without Satou-chan_?  
  
Satou had given her everything she wanted when she wanted them. Waiting until Satou returned home from school and making ends meet at her job had been rough. But they made it work. Shio had done her best to understand Satou’s stress despite anger that she wasn’t there sometimes, even though Shio hadn’t seen the first-hand problems until Shouko had not left their apartment.  
  
She wanted to go home.  
  
Shio’s home was happiness with Satou.  
  
She wanted to grow up with her.  
  
Their castle was destroyed.  
  
“I always ate candy with Satou-chan,” Shio murmured, matter-of-fact. Without her most important memory of Satou intact, she did not know how she could keep on living.  
  
Shio wrinkled her nose. They pretended they knew better than Satou, but they didn’t know anything about them or the life she should have! Shio shrugged. The nurse didn’t get the truth, and her words fell on deaf ears; a world of people had not heard the whistle of wind while Satou and she had fallen. No matter what they couldn’t grasp those feelings.  
  
She craved candy so desperately.  
  
Satou… Her hugs were better than candy…  
  
The nurses were Satou’s exact opposite.  
  
_Bitter_ …  
  
Shio’s lungs squeezed. She choked, coughed, the stagnant world around her suffocating.

* * *

  
Sometimes Asahi joined her during lunch or dinner. She never paid much attention to his idle chatter. Shio nibbled on whatever was on the tray, lips locked from communication, a cold shoulder to his pointless invasiveness.  
  
He lived the delusion they would be together forever as a family. That was impossible; they had thrown her away, and Satou had been loyally attached to Shio’s side until death parted them. The truth was, once he walked outside the door, she forgot about him. He didn’t hold an ounce of weight in her life.  
  
But when he stayed longer than meal hours, Shio had to humor him. He stared at her with pleading eyes until she showed emotion.  
  
“What…” Asahi breathed through his nose for levity. He gripped the hem of his shirt and fiddled with it. “That woman… Shio, when you think about her, what do you imagine?”  
  
He had never shown in an interest in that before. Usually, he was horrified when she told him the extent of her daydreams.  
  
Now that was a topic Shio could answer.  
  
“Oh.” Shio wiggled her legs under the blanket, bouncing. “Satou-chan’s smile, of course!”  
  
“A cruel woman like her… smiled?”  
  
Asahi grimaced. Shio didn’t appreciate that, so she ignored him. Satou had never smiled at him, and he couldn’t bring himself to feel the boundless love they shared. If he couldn’t respect Satou she didn’t want him there.  
  
Asahi didn’t come back for a few days. Shio was placated, though, because she thought about Satou cuddling with her in their bed.  
  
“Here,” Asahi said. He placed a wicker basket on the end table and an old photo inside of it.  
  
The picture showed their mother, Shio, and Asahi himself looking at the camera. Their expressions were calm but not exuberant—a still of time similar to a young, frail flower before the angry storm hit. Their father was nowhere within sight. Nonetheless, there had once been a smidge of unity in their family.  
  
“I don’t remember that,” Shio said.  
  
Asahi laughed. “Well, the memory is fuzzy,” he admitted. “It’s the only happy photo we have left over from those times, and I want to leave it here for you to see… But,” he said, a catch in his voice, “we will make memories. They will also go in here. One day I’ll bring Mom and we’ll have too many to count!”  
  
Shio didn’t care what he did. She guessed it wasn’t in her way, so she wouldn’t look.  
  
Over time, she collected candies. Asahi brought her some alongside new batches of flowers to brighten up the room. The small assortment at meal times added onto the amount. Eating the candy and seeing the empty wrappers upset her, though, and she piled them up in her desk drawer while she decided what she should do with them. They tended to melt or get lost under her pillow.  
  
The candies were too far away.  
  
She needed them closer.  
  
It took one reminder that the basket was next to her. Shio dumped the picture somewhere on the floor and dropped the candies inside.  
  
“They’re pretty.” She flicked through the pink, green, and orange wrappers, grinning. “Now, if I eat one, the others won’t be lonely. More and more—I’ll do this forever, and ever.”  
  
Once he returned the next day, Asahi nearly panicked when he spotted the picture wasn’t in its place. Wildly, he looked side to side. Asahi peeked in the trash can and paused once there was a distant crinkling sound. Gritting his teeth, he bent and picked up the picture poking out from under the bed.  
  
“How did this fall down here?”  
  
Shio cradled the overstuffed basket on her lap. The candies rustled against the wicker. She hummed thoughtfully, unfazed in the least.  
  
Biting his lip, Asahi reached for the basket. “Let me put this back in,” he said, fingers enclosing on the handle and lightly pulling.  
  
Shio bristled. She snatched the basket from within his reach, knuckles white, unflinching.  
  
“This is mine.” She glared.  
  
Asahi backed away from the bed. He balled his fist, as if his skin burned, eyes pained.  
  
Shio wasn’t interested in so-called misplaced sympathy. He wouldn’t put that cursed photo among her candies and taint her treasure.  
  
The candy was precious to her. End of story.  
  
Granted, the candy wasn’t special. It was ordinary candy anyone bought at the store, but Shio saw its worth, its sacrilege to the memories she counted on each of them.  
  
Sugar was for Satou, and they jolted the rhythm of her heart back into comfort.  
  
Some of it tasted like sour medicine. Shio hated the thought of giving the sour candy to Satou—the meals with Satou had been so, so tasty and not upsetting to the stomach—but it was all Shio honestly had to improvise with.  
  
Satou had been right; the world outside their beloved castle was not a forgiving place.  
  
Slowly, Shio unwrapped the pale blue wrapper. The glossy sheen of the wrapper glinted under the moonlight. Hand raising high, she held the candy to the darkness.  
  
"Can you feel it, Satou-chan?" she asked the thin air. “I have this for you. This is the candy I want to share only with you! See? Can we share the way we used to together?”  
  
The fluid, vivid image of Satou appeared next to her bedside. Her form obscured the dark in the room, blocking the stretch of empty floor across the space, only Satou in her glory.  
  
Satou took the candy from Shio’s hand with her teeth. She chewed, swallowing it.  
  
“You really know the best ones, Shio-chan!”  
  
Pleased but craving more, Shio still wanted to further test Satou’s reactions. The annoyance chafed at her heart. Why wasn’t she satisfied? Heck if she knew. She wanted more. She wanted something. Yet she had everything she wanted here, in her heart, all wrapped up in the bed! Satou had always been happy about everything she did for her, but…  
  
"Which flavor is the best?" Shio asked anyway.  
  
Satou clapped her hands. “As long as you give it to me, they’re all my favorites.”  
  
Shio smiled.  
  
Satou didn’t move.  
  
“Can you tell me, Satou-chan? When you die can you taste sugar? Is it still good?”  
  
In a way, she was too scared to hear a confirmation either way, because Shio believed she could without assurance. As if to mimic her thoughts Satou didn’t reply.  
  
“I wish I went with you," Shio confessed, heart thumping. "But… You wished for me to live.  _You_  did. My own happy sugar life is inside me now! I’ll taste all the sugar for us both, okay? I’ll make sure I eat lots and lots and fill myself with overflowing happiness.”  
  
The consequences of death were still too screwed tight with confusion. But she knew Satou was gone and she couldn’t taste the same things. Maybe there was candy after death and it was different than this candy, too, but she wanted Satou to taste what she did. Shio may be the messenger of that sweet taste, delivering it directly to her dreams.  
  
Satou would realize she was reaching for her and guiding her back to her own path.  
  
The candy clattered on the floor out of sight. Shio listened to the ball clatter on the ground three times until it settled against bed pane.  
  
Shio picked up another one of the candies in the basket and held it out for Satou. Luckily, she had enough for a whole delicious feast. As before, Satou leaned in to reach for it.  
  
Each candy bounced off the blanket and piled up on the floor. One tiny smack after another sounded like faraway bumps in the night.  
  
Soon enough, every candy disappeared.


End file.
